Try Out
by Mooncat99
Summary: After losing his wife, Vance is lost. Help to guide him back where he's needed comes from an unexpected source. No ships, Tony/Gibbs father/son
1. Warm Up

Title: Try Out

Author: Mooncat

Summary: After losing his wife, Vance is lost. Help to guide him back where he's needed comes from an unexpected source.

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of child neglect.

Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters, I just borrow them for my own fun.

Copyright: Sarah Diaz 2013

Author's Note: This two-parter tags lightly to episodes 10-15: Hereafter and 10-18: Seek. I thought it nice that Vance sought help from Gibbs, Abby and even Ziva – but couldn't help but think that there was missing some kind of a proverbial kick in the ass for him and who better to deliver that than our favorite very Special Agent? Before we start with the story, a big thanks to the wonderful scousemuz1k, my beta. She make sure that my German doesn't mess up the English too much, so all thanks for a smooth read go to her.

* * *

**Try Out**

**Warm Up**

It was late, like really late. Which was nothing new for Tony, he loved the quiet hours where he was alone in the bullpen, sometimes even the whole floor. It was when he could give his imaginative mind a rest and put a dent into the never ending paperwork that came with his job. He hated the paperwork as much as any other field agent, but as a cop, he'd gotten good at working it efficiently and under Gibbs, with his especial dislike for anything that didn't involve a gun or a knife he'd gotten even better at it. Besides, he knew it was necessary for the welfare of his team so he did it perhaps not happily, but definitely meticulously.

Still, perhaps it was time to give some of it to the probies. He'd be well within his rights, and frankly, McGee and Ziva could use the practice, especially if they ever wanted to move up the ladder. And he could use a few more hours per week of downtime as he really wanted to try to build himself a bit more of a life outside work.

Yawning, he stretched and leaned back in his chair, swiveling around on it as he allowed himself a few minutes of rest.

His eyes were drawn upwards as he heard the door to MTAC swish open, and he saw Director Vance leaving and walking towards his office. With a frown Tony checked the time. It was well beyond midnight. Turning back towards his desk he stared at his computer screen, not that the supply requisition form held any interest for him at the moment.

Granted, as director of a federal agency, long hours were as much part of the job as paperwork was part of his job as SFA. It wasn't the first time Vance had had to stay late and it sure wouldn't be the last time. Problem was, since coming back to work after his wife's death, Vance seemed to stay late into the night in the office more and more and often even when it wasn't really necessary. Before Jackie Vance's death, the director had always hurried home as soon as work allowed it.

Sure, maybe there was some super secret op going down or Vance had to talk urgently to one of their agents stationed in Europe, Africa or Asia or some agent afloat and he was wrong that there was no reason for Vance to still be here at the office instead of at home. But Tony didn't think so. He had excellent contacts amongst the staff of the financial department as well as the MTAC operators and usually knew if some hush-hush business was going on.

Not that it was any of his business anyway. Vance was his director, nothing more. He didn't have to worry about how he was doing after his wife's death as long as it didn't affect his team.

Right. Straightening in his chair, he put his hands back over the keyboard to continue with filling out the request form. And after that, there were more forms to be filled out if their team was to get its due overtime pay, not to mention that the reports on the active and cold cases they'd worked on this week had to be reviewed, completed and filed. Once that was done, he had a half dozen reports of other teams to review. All in all, he had more pressing things to do than contemplate his director's working hours.

But his fingers didn't move and his mind was still up there with Vance rather than doing inventory.

Really, it was Jared's fault. Or rather the man's fault himself, because he'd been the one asking Tony and Ziva to babysit his children when he first came back to work. Never especially good with youngsters, Tony had had little enthusiasm about this particular job, expecting it to be as disastrous as always when he was supposed to entertain kids.

To his surprise though he had enjoyed the hours with them and especially with Vance's son, the younger one even, he'd gotten along really well. For part of the evening, they've played a bit of hoops, the boy telling him about his desire to try out for his school's basketball team. Now that was something Tony could relate to and he'd given him a few pointers, offering to coach him some more if Jared wanted him to, not really expecting to hear from the boy again. But a week later, Jared had called and asked if his offer still stood and since then, once a week he met the boy to coach him a little. Which was why he knew for a fact that tonight Jared had had the try out, which he'd passed with flying colors or so his euphoric text message had said, not that Tony had had any doubts about that. The boy was good enough for a school team. He wouldn't exactly encourage him to aim for going pro one day, not at this point, but he could still be an asset to any team.

Besides, from his own experience he knew Jared could only benefit from joining a team.

He hadn't asked if Jared had told his father about his private lessons with one of his agents. Most likely, Vance, the control freak that he was, knew about it. Or maybe not, his head wasn't working right yet and it was a bit strange that Vance had never mentioned it to Tony.

But he did know for a fact that Jared had told him about the try outs, the excitement of the boy about showing his daddy the progress he'd made still ringing in his ears. It was what had him frowning now, keeping him from the work he was supposed to do.

It wasn't his place to give Vance any parenting advice, not even by a long shot. After all, what did he know about having kids? Nothing!

Groaning, he threw himself back in his chair again, staring gloomily at the ugly overlights. No, he had no idea what it meant to be a father, let alone a recent widower with two motherless kids at home.

But he knew _everything_ about being a boy who lost his mother way too early and waited in vain for his daddy to show up to the important and non-important moments of life.

* * *

Sitting in his chair, Vance stared at the report in front of him without seeing any of the written words. Instead, like so often since Jackie's death, his thoughts drifted off; remembering so many of his moments with her. From back when they met, the time they dated, their wedding, their first trip together, their first apartment, the pregnancies, the births of their children. Interspersed with images of her body in front of him, her blood spilling out from beneath his fingers, her life slipping through them.

And there was still that doubt he couldn't quite shake. Most likely, Gibbs was right and Jackie had contacted a lawyer to start the process of the separation of their property in preparation for if something should happen to him. But why not tell him anything about it? That question tormented him because even if it was just a step on her part to stand on her own two feet if the worst were to happen - in the dark hours he couldn't shake the disturbing doubts that maybe, his first thought when he'd found out about this might be right after all and that Jackie had thought about a divorce.

He'd always thought they had a happy marriage, but there were tense moments and he knew, sometimes, Jackie had been close to the breaking point, that last final straw and he couldn't help but ask himself if maybe, his job had almost cost him his marriage, way before it had taken away the life of his wife?

Good, her last day on this Earth had made it very clear that even if that had been the case, she had given them a second chance. Oh God, how he wished he hadn't blown her off and never invited Eli! If he'd just put her first for once ...

But he hadn't and now he had to forever live with his failing that day.

These thoughts and memories haunted him whenever he had a free minute when he wasn't focusing on an ongoing operation or urgent business. But at home it was the worst. Not just because there, her life had literally slipped through his hands after he'd invited death into their home, but more because her ghost haunted him in every room, was in every last damn object they owned. At home, her death and the gaping hole in his life, all their lives, that it had left was where it was the most obvious. While he was at work, where she had seldom visited him, it didn't hurt as much to not have her there anymore.

A knock at the door jerked him out of his jaded memories and he straightened, busying himself with the report in front of him. What was it about again? Then though he remembered the time. Who the hell would disturb him at this late hour?

The door opened to reveal DiNozzo. Of course, who else. "This better be important, DiNozzo."

As usual, his sharp growl had no effects on Gibbs' second. If anything, his always present smirk widened as he waved with a case file. "Here are the reports for the Ryker Case. You said you wanted it as soon as possible."

Taking the file, he frowned at DiNozzo. "This surely could have waited until morning."

DiNozzo shrugged. "Well, as you were still here and didn't give any specifications other than ASAP I thought it best to bring it up once it was finished. Perhaps next time you can be more specific while issuing deadlines."

Incredulous, Vance raised an eyebrow. DiNozzo regularly was out of line, but telling him how to do his work was taking it a bit far, even for DiNozzo. "I'll try to remember that next time," he replied, sarcastically. Any other person would recognize this as the dismissal it was. Not so DiNozzo. He remained standing in front of his desk. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"Oh no. Well, you probably know I helped your boy a bit with his basketball and I'm dying to know if he made the team?" the Italian asked, back to grinning, looking expectantly at him.

Yeah, he actually was well aware that Jared had taken an unexpected liking to DiNozzo ever since he'd assigned him and David to babysit the kids. He wasn't too happy about it, but it seemed to be one of the only things to still bring a smile to his son's face, so he hadn't put a stop to it. But he had no idea what DiNozzo was talking about. "Team?"

DiNozzo nodded eagerly. "His school team. Today was the try outs, right? Not that I'm worried, the little man throws a good ball and he's not bad in defense either. The coach would be a fool not to take him. Still, I'd love to know if he made the team or not. Surely, he told you, didn't he? After all, it's not everyday you make your first team and Jared's really been hoping and working hard to join it."

Vaguely, Vance remembered Jared talking about wanting to make the team and going on and on about DiNozzo and try outs and scores – but he couldn't remember if the try out indeed had been today. Had Jared even told him at all? He didn't know, but neither option sat well with him. Either he'd forgotten about it or Jared hadn't thought he wanted to hear it or maybe only wanted to tell him if he succeeded in making the team and honestly, Vance didn't know which was worse. For now though, he still had DiNozzo eagerly waiting for an answer he didn't have. "I'm sure he made it. Thank you for helping him." Maybe, him acknowledging the help would distract DiNozzo from the fact that he simply had no idea what he was talking about.

The agent shrugged. "No problem. I always liked to coach. And Jared's a good kid."

Yeah he was. One who deserved a father who actually remembered what his son was telling him. Damn it. Jackie had always reminded him when he'd been likely to forget something important in their kid's lives. She had also told him about the general happenings in their lives, giving him pointers to what he needed to talk or ask about when he spoke with them. How was he supposed to know and track all of this alone now? Conscious that DiNozzo was still there, he pushed those thoughts away for the moment. "Well, thank you. You should call it a night and go home, get some rest," he suggested because after showing interest in his son's life he could hardly throw him out just like that.

DiNozzo nodded and walked away. At the door though he stopped. When he just stood there, looking at his feet, not saying anything, Vance really was starting to lose his patience. He had made it clear he wanted to be left alone, hadn't he? And despite his contrary behavior, DiNozzo was far from being stupid. Something was clearly on the agent's mind but he was in no mood whatsoever to listen to it. "Good Night, DiNozzo," he told him firmly, making it clear once and for all that the agent needed to leave.

Looking back at him, his face was expressionless for a moment before DiNozzo let go of the door handle and came back to stand in front of him. "What about you? Planning to go home anytime soon?"

Enough was enough. Vance stood up, leaning over his desk. "That is hardly any …"

" … of my business, I know. And believe me, I couldn't agree more," DiNozzo interrupted him, sighing deeply. "Unfortunately, you leave me no choice. I'm saying this with all the respect I can, but Sir, you need to go home." Taking a deep breath, he continued before Vance could find words to express the rage he was feeling at being told what to do by one of his agents. For the second time in less than ten minutes no less. "In fact, you should have gone home long before this. Especially today. I get that you want to avoid the empty house. I imagine the ghost of your wife haunts you wherever you look, but …"

By this time, Vance had rounded his desk, grabbing DiNozzo by his shirt to draw him up close to his face. "How dare you? You have no right …"

"To tell you how it is? That your kids need you at home, not hiding out here in your office and burying yourself with work that can wait or be done by others? Especially now? Did you even know that Jared tried out today? Has he told you about losing contact with his friends because they don't know how to act around him since his mother died, which is why he so desperately wants to make the team in the first place? Have you any idea what's going on in your kids' lives anymore? Like Kayla skipping school lessons and failing in her science classes?" DiNozzo asked back but not defending himself. "Newsflash, what you're doing isn't working and sure won't help you or your kids! You better stop now before you lose them as well and I'll still be knowing more about their lives than you do. Which is just wrong on so many levels but then again, if you forget that you're first and foremost a father whose kids need him at home desperately, well, then I guess that's how it's going to be."

It was too much and Vance reacted in the only way he could. He decked DiNozzo. Hard. Made him tumble back, half falling onto his conference table. Gingerly touching the split lip, DiNozzo straightened, looking back at him. Surprisingly, there was no malice or even anger in his eyes, only resignation. "Bet you've wanted to do that for years. Feel better now?"

Vance pointed a finger at him, not trusting himself to make one step in his direction. "Careful, DiNozzo."

"Too late for that I believe," he simply answered with a shrug. "I'm well aware that my job's on the line here, a job I love and live for. With co-workers I think of as family. You know why I've risked that here?"

Vance flexed his hand, longing to deck the impossible man again. He wasn't interested in whatever DiNozzo had to say. "Leave now and maybe I'll overlook this episode tonight."

Shaking his head, DiNozzo smiled ruefully at him. "It's because when my mom died, it started exactly like this. Dad was never home much, always putting business first. But after my mother's death, he couldn't bear to be at home anymore and found every excuse to stay away. You're right, this isn't any of my business and I don't know squat about what it means to lose a woman I've been with for years. But I _was_ that boy, Director, waiting at home for Daddy to come home, usually in vain. All alone in a big house with the ghost of my mother. You think it's hard for you? Oh believe me, it's ten time worse for Jared and Kayla."

Vance stared at him. DiNozzo's honest and obviously not easy confession robbing him of any words.

"Look, I know you're different from my father. You are a good dad, you love your children, usually put them first. But today was an important day for Jared. He wanted you there. And you weren't. Not because you couldn't but because you didn't care. He doesn't need to know that but I'm warning you, this is how it starts. You'll miss more and more, lose the touch with him, he starts to count you out, gets used to not needing you and before you know it, ten years pass without speaking to him." He breathed deeply and blinked. "Okay, maybe I'm taking it a bit too far here, I'm just trying to explain what you staying away does to your son. It's no fun."

Still standing stock still, Vance felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of icy water. He had been feeling guilty already about avoiding going home, fighting hard to be there for the kids - even if sometimes, once they were asleep, he went back into work. The nights were the worst, facing that bed that was no longer shared. So yeah, he'd slipped, finding more and more excuses to not go home. Apparently, not good enough ones.

"Just - think about it. About what you and your kids need. Maybe it's best to move, get a new place that isn't haunted by memories. I sure would have preferred it to an absentee father. And figure something out to ensure they are not alone so much. We don't mind helping out but you can't keep using NCIS personnel to babysit. It doesn't look good for the agency and your kids need something else as well. Nannies aren't the spawn of the devil, just so you know." Again a rueful smile. "At least not all of them. First they'll hate it, especially given their age. But if she's any good, that soon will pass and they'll come to love her. It's not about replacing their mother. It's more about having someone at home that cares about you. In the end, it beats any independence they may think they're missing out on. And she can keep you updated, remind you of the important stuff."

DiNozzo watched him for any reaction but Vance didn't offer him one. To be honest, he still didn't know how to respond.

His agent looked down at his feet, pushing the hands into his pockets. "Well, I guess I've said all I needed to say. I'll leave you now, let you think about it. Ah, and if you don't want me coming back on Monday, which I seriously hope is not the case, I'd appreciate knowing it as soon as possible." He hesitated for a moment, seeing if maybe Vance had something to say to that. He didn't. Nodding slowly, DiNozzo wished him a surprisingly quiet goodnight and left, closing the door behind him softly.

Leaving Vance alone with a lot to think about.

TBC!

* * *

_Author's Note: Big surprise, my one shot actually turned out to be a two parter. I know, with this week's episodes most of you probably don't think back to this time/episodes. But I hope you enjoy my little take on what could have been happening behind the scenes anyway. Second part soon – and Gibbs will have a lot to say in that one!_


	2. Cool Down

**Cool Down**

For once, Gibbs had turned in early. The Ryker case had been a long and exhausting one, but it was thankfully closed now, with the murderer behind bars and the family of the victims having some answers. He'd expected nightmares to plague him, taking him back to when he lost his girls. Ryker had killed four army wives before they caught him. They'd cheated on their men, currently on a tour of duty, just like his own wife had cheated on him while he'd been away fighting for his country. But she was killed in a car accident, alongside her lover, so he couldn't kill her anymore and substituted the other women instead. Maybe the few similarities between this case and what happened to his girls was why he was spared the nightmares this time, though it did surprise him, as one of the victims, the last one, had been a redhead. Not as beautiful as his Shannon had been, but at least on the pictures, she sure had piqued his interest.

But if he'd dreamed at all, it hadn't been a nightmare, waking him up in the darkness of the night, sending him down into the basement to try to chase the ghosts away by working on some wood. Or drinking bourbon.

His sleep still was interrupted though, his eyes flying open in the middle of the night, trying to figure out what had woken him. It wasn't a sound, at least not one he had heard consciously. He sat up anyway, listening, his hand creeping towards the gun on his night table. His gut twisted as he felt that while there was still no sound, the air in the house had shifted. Someone was here.

Grabbing his gun, he got up and left his room to softly make his way down the stairs on his bare feet, avoiding the steps that squeaked. The door was closed, so either the intruder was unusually polite or didn't want to draw attention to the house. Or it wasn't an intruder at all. But as his gut still was clenched, although not in the way it usually clenched in order to warn him about a threat; more in the way it did when he had need to worry about something or someone, he had a good suspicion what it was. To be on the safe side, he kept the safety off though as he moved to the door to his living room.

"Don't shoot. 's just me."

Releasing the breath he'd held, Gibbs simultaneously flipped the light switch and the safety on, before he squinted in the light to make out his second's slumped figure on the couch, eyes squeezed shut to protect himself from the sudden brightness. Frowning, he laid the gun on the commode and stared at his SFA, taking everything in. He wore the same jeans and sweater he'd worn to work so he probably hadn't been home yet. His eyes were still closed but his nose caught a whiff of alcohol. They were off tomorrow so there was no reason not to have a few drinks and if Tony was really drunk off his ass, he wouldn't be here or wouldn't be showing the awareness he had so far. Contrary to what many thought, DiNozzo actually rarely drank more than a few beers or a glass of wine or the occasionally bourbon here with him. For him to have drunk enough that Gibbs could smell a hint of it was rare. And never a good sign.

The bruise starting to blossom on the right side of his jaw was another hint that something had happened since he'd left DiNozzo back at work, finishing up the paperwork. He sighed. Ya just couldn't leave that boy alone for a second without him getting in trouble. He wondered what it was this time. He waited for DiNozzo to say something but he was reclining back on the sofa, his eyes still closed, not speaking. For once, his cheerful front had vanished altogether, leaving behind a man who looked downright dejected and melancholy.

He didn't like it, not one bit. Tony clung to his masks as a shield and lifeline. For them to shatter took a lot. Watching him closely, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the door frame. "Bad night?"

Tony shrugged, not opening his eyes, laughing humorlessly. "You could say that." Gibbs raised an eyebrow and waited. It didn't take long before his SFA sighed deeply, cracking one eye open to glance briefly at him. "Bad trip down memory lane."

Gibbs digested that, thinking about what it could mean. Unfortunately, there were a lot of demons in the young man's past and none of them made for a particularly good time remembering. But which one of them was it that had him so rattled he'd taken a drink, got in a fight and finally sought out the solace of his house instead of crawling home to crash there, leaving Gibbs in the dark about whatever haunted his thoughts tonight as he usually preferred it? But just that fact gave him an idea what this could be about. "Memory lane also give you that bruise?" he asked casually, forcing his hands to stay relaxed. If this was Senior messing with his son's head again, he needed to keep his cool, just like every other time that - _man_ - had swept in to shake his usually so confident Senior Field Agent up. God help him if he had crossed the line and given Tony that bruise.

There was much he could tolerate, though Senior tested his control every time he breezed in. But hurting one of his people was not acceptable, especially if it was DiNozzo hurting at the hands of the very man who should always protect him instead of hurting him time and time again. He'd said his piece to Senior when he'd first shown up, had warned him a few more times. Had done his best to pick up the pieces the man left behind. If he was responsible for this, Gibbs was going to have another talk with him but this time, he wouldn't hold back. Not anymore.

Across from him, Tony frowned, puzzled, before he brought up his hand to touch the forming bruise gingerly. "Oh that. It's nothing."

Nothing? Gibbs disagreed heartily, but knew any comment in that direction was going to be totally wasted on the fool.

"Think I screwed up, Boss."

The quiet but desolate statement made Gibbs hair stand on end, but he still kept it casual. Too much intensity could make Tony clam up faster than he could say his name. "How so?"

Again Tony laughed and again there was nothing funny about it. "Oh, I don't know. Probably lost my job. Told Vance how to parent his kids. He sure didn't appreciate it." His fingers gently probed the hurt skin. "Can't blame the guy. It's none of my business and even if it were, what do I know about parenting? It sure is a ridiculous thought. Should have kept my mouth shut."

Gibbs' frown had deepened as he tried to make sense of DiNozzo's rambling. His SFA had told Leon how to parent his kids? No wonder he got decked. Probably would have done so himself, if it had been him in the director's place. You can't reason with a man who'd just lost his wife, let alone tell him how to deal with his pain. DiNozzo should know that, he had to deal with grieving family members often enough. "Why?"

Tony snorted, running a hand through his hair. "'Cause I'm screwed up?" He shook his head. "Jared's a good kid. He deserves better than I got. Kayla too. And somehow I thought, maybe, if I say something, I could save them from the same fate I ..." his voice trailed off and he looked away. His hand flexed into a fist before he relaxed it again. "Should have known better. Vance's nothing like my dad. He cares, for one. Loves his kids. I know that. Which's why I opened my big mouth in the first place. 'Cause maybe he'll listen at least, once he's past the anger. Dad never listened, you know? They tried. The house staff, the nannies, some of the teachers, even some of the wives. Didn't matter. Was still mostly alone in that big, empty house for the four years 'til I was shipped out to RIMS." Suddenly he shot to his feet, starting to pace. "He was _never_ there! And you see where that leads. I'm in my forties and I'm still angry with him, so angry I go and put my job on the line just because I couldn't help but see it starting to unravel for Jared and Kayla. I ... I just couldn't let that happen, Boss."

As Gibbs listened, his heart grew heavier with every word DiNozzo let slip. That Tony had had a crappy childhood and was left with some serious issues resulting from back then was nothing new. It had taken Gibbs years to get anything out of DiNozzo about that time and it still was a pain in the ass. For him to reveal so much now was a sign of just how shaken up he was by tonight's events.

If he could, he'd give anything to give Tony the childhood he'd deserved. To see how much it still hurt him, even after all these years, was cutting him deeply as well. But he couldn't change it. All he could do was try to make it better now. Problem was, it meant only so much coming from him.

"God, I'm messed up."

His eyes narrowed at the desperate statement. Pushing away from the door frame he moved to stand in front of Tony, slapping the back of his head. What he really wanted to do was caress it, but that wouldn't work. Not for DiNozzo, never having learned the softness of a parent's touch and not for Gibbs either, being much better at being a bastard than being affectionate. That side of him died with his girls, and was only seldom resurrected, usually with kids or Abby. But if he couldn't give physical affection, he could at least give DiNozzo some verbal reassurance. "Hey. Don't say that. You're one of the best federal agents this country has. You are _not_ messed up."

Tony lifted his eyes to him and for once everything he felt was there for Gibbs to see, all that pain, insecurity and doubt. "I'm not balanced either."

Maybe not. But who was, really? "Which's why you're so good." He stepped back, held his gaze for a moment longer before he turned to go into his kitchen, leaving DiNozzo to think about his words. As he stood in front of the refrigerator, he paused, closing his eyes. Getting himself together. He knew this was hell for DiNozzo, but seeing him go through so much anguish was hard for him too, especially when it came so suddenly, without any warning at all. He'd been fine when he'd left him. There had been no triggers lately either, not since Christmas.

Then again, he knew DiNozzo had never really dealt with the issues he carried, burying them instead. Ever since Senior had come back into his life though, he'd had no choice but confront them head on. Sooner or later, he had to reach a breaking point. Honestly, he'd thought it would happen sooner but even he underestimated DiNozzo occasionally. It had taken three years, and Tony being confronted with a situation hitting way too close to home, to come to this.

Really, he should have seen this coming. But he'd been so focused on Leon and Ziva, he'd been blind to the fact that what had happened to the Vances had to bring up demons from Tony's past too. Truth was, ever since the bombing Tony had come up short a bit. Mostly, because out of all of them, he needed Gibbs the least, taking care of the others in his own way. Of course, he also had the most experience at hiding his own pain.

But _he_ should know better, Gibbs thought angrily as he opened the freezer to get out the ever present pack of frozen peas. Walking back, he saw that Tony had slumped back down onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Wordlessly, he held the pack of peas out to him, waiting until they were grudgingly taken and pressed to the coloring skin. Plopping down beside his SFA, he leaned back as well.

For a long time neither of them said anything but ever so slowly, he felt the younger man relax. When he sighed, Gibbs took that as a cue that he was more ready to listen now. "You're not fired. Not if I have a say in it." Which he had. To protect his team he wasn't above blackmail, not that he thought it'd come to that. "You may have been out of line, but your intentions were honest, just wanting to help. Vance will realize that eventually as well."

Turning his head, Tony stared at him, still not saying anything. But doubt was still plain on his face. Well, he'd see it soon enough.

"That aside, you have issues. That's okay, we all do. It's also okay if sometimes, they get the better of you. It happens rarely enough with you." Now would be the perfect time for a beer or a shot of bourbon but he thought DiNozzo had already drunk enough. It would make this conversation a lot easier though. "And you did good, Tony. For calling Leon on his shit. You were the only one who could. I didn't see it and no one else has got the guts to confront the director."

"You mean is as stupid as that," DiNozzo corrected him dryly.

This time, the headslap was just that, a firm reminder that he didn't tolerate belittling. And for him to stop to be so stubbornly dense. Tony rubbed the back of his head but the exaggerated eye roll he performed told Gibbs that the message was received. Good. "It's also good you came here. Would have had your ass if you hadn't come."

Tony glanced at him. "You needed to know."

Both men knew that he wasn't just talking about him being at risk of being fired for being out of line with the director. And Gibbs nodded, responding to both what had been said and left unsaid. "Damn right."

A couple of years back, Tony wouldn't have come to him, wouldn't have said more than necessary to explain the situation. To Gibbs it was a big, big step in the right direction that tonight, he'd done so, not even apologizing for coming by so late or waking him up. It had nothing to do with Rule Six and everything with the fact that he expected Tony to know that he was always welcome in this house and never came at an inconvenient time. And that he wanted him to come to him, no matter what was plaguing his second's mind. Senior may be a foolish bastard, not knowing, let alone appreciating what a gift he had, and didn't deserve if you asked Gibbs, with that son of his. But he wasn't making that mistake, knowing exactly how precious such a gift was - and if Senior was so stupid as to throw it away, well, his loss was _his_ gain.

"Thanks," Tony said, barely above a whisper.

Gibbs just shrugged. Leaning his head back down, Tony closed his eyes with a sigh. Not long, and his breathing evened out, his head lolling to the side. Scooting over, Gibbs sat close enough so the head of his exhausted SFA could come to rest on his shoulder. Sooner or later he'd move back up to his bedroom, letting Tony stretch out and crash on the sofa. For now though, he was content to just close his own eyes and listen to the deep breathing of his sleeping charge.

* * *

Rays of sun shining into his face woke Vance and he blinked, needing a moment to orient himself. His eyes fell onto the sleeping form of his son and with a rush, he remembered coming home way after midnight, stumbling up the stairs to his son's room, needing to see him.

DiNozzo had been out of line, no question. But he'd been right about him not having done right by Jared and once he'd managed to quench his rage a bit, he'd realized that he needed to apologize. To Kayla too, for being away from home so often, and boy, she was in for a long talk about skipping lessons and keeping that from him. Her teachers as well for that matter. But foremost to Jared for - well, having missed out on everything that was important to him, at least ever since he'd gone back to work. So he'd sought him out right away, finding him sleeping peacefully in his bed. For a moment he'd been tempted to wake him, ask about the try out, apologize for not having been there. In the end, he'd let him sleep.

He checked the watch on the night table. Barely six am. Quietly getting up, he stretched, before he walked over to his son's bed to stroke his hair. He didn't stir, not that that surprised him much. His boy was a sleepy head and he and Jackie always had trouble getting him out of bed. Not to mention that it really was still very early.

Deciding to let him sleep in, he left the room and quickly checked in on Kayla. She was as dead to the world as her brother was. Shaking his head with a smile, he yawned, heading to his own room. As always since Jackie's death, he avoided looking at the bed he'd shared with his wife. He hadn't slept in it since it happened, stretching out instead on the couch or sleeping in the chair in one of the kids' rooms. It was untouched, still made up by Jackie herself. He knew he needed to bring himself to use it again, change the covers. But every time he tried, he just couldn't do it.

Instead he headed for the bathroom to take a long overdue shower and dress himself in some casual jeans and shirt. On the way down to the kitchen he checked in on his kids again but they were still deeply lost in the sleep of the innocents. Good, that would give him time to prepare breakfast. It was high time he picked up on some of their family traditions, like having a big breakfast on the weekends. And this time, no matter how great the need to escape was going to be, Kayla and Jared needed him and that was all that counted. So he'd get into it all: the schoolwork, the friends, the music, the passions and the damn try outs. They needed to know that they could come to him, no matter with what. And that when something happened, big, small, good or bad, he was the first one to tell.

Not DiNozzo or anyone else.

There was a sharp knock on the door that had him looking up, frowning. It was still only six thirty. Though, he had a hunch who that could be and if he was right he wasn't surprised at all at the early hour. The coffee that was just ready was a telling sign that his hunch was probably right. Pouring it into two large cups, he took them and went to open the door. Sure enough, Gibbs was standing there. Handing him the second cup, he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Gibbs wasn't one to raise his voice, even less with kids around, but he didn't want to risk them waking up anyway. He could make no guarantee that he wouldn't lose his control.

For starters though, neither of them said anything, sipping their coffee. Only when he'd drained his cup and Gibbs still showed no sign of breaking the silence, did he shake his head and put his cup on the porch table. "He was out of line and sticking his nose where it didn't belong."

Gibbs lifted his shoulders oh so slightly. "True."

His admission threw Vance off a bit, not that he let it show. Instead, he let the anger that still simmered beneath bubble up again. "I'd have every right to fire him for the way he disrespected me."

The corner of his moth twitched up into a half smile. "Yeah."

Vance narrowed his eyes. "You not here to try to change my mind?"

Gibbs met his stare with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Do I have to?"

Ah. That game. He should have known it. "Maybe."

The eyebrow arched a bit higher. As he put his empty cup aside, Gibbs' gaze grew in intensity. "He went at it the wrong way, but he tried to help. Or are you telling me that he was wrong?"

Dammit. And that was the problem, wasn't it? As much as he had overstepped his boundaries, DiNozzo'd been right and though he hated to admit it, there was even some grudging respect on his part, knowing that almost no-one but the SFA, or perhaps the man standing in front of him, had the balls to call him on his shit like that. Didn't mean that he had to like it. Or tolerate it, at least not without any repercussions at all. "Three days of suspension."

Gibbs inclined his head, thinking for a moment. "No notation in his file."

He could live with that and nodded.

"Enjoying the weekend off with the kids?"

Gibbs' question was anything but casual. "Yeah," Vance answered shortly, not appreciating the reminder that DiNozzo might have something to do with that.

"Then I'll leave you to it." Gibbs got as far as the top of the porch steps before he turned halfway back. "And Leon? You lay a hand on one of my agents again, no matter the provocation, I'll file a complaint with SecNav. I doubt he'll appreciate to learn that his director has so little control and goes around hitting his agents." He didn't wait for an answer, just springing down the steps to head back to his car.

Vance glared after him, seriously contemplating suspending the former marine as well. He would, if he thought it would make a difference but Gibbs didn't care about things like that. DiNozzo was heading in the same direction as his mentor, but wasn't quite there yet. He still cared about his record and the flawlessness of his file, which was why this suspension just might make him think about where he'd been wrong.

Though he didn't have very high hopes on it having the power to change DiNozzo and make him behave better in his presence.

He thought back to Jared sleeping peacefully in his bed.

Unfortunately, maybe, just maybe, that was actually for the best.

* * *

"You've got three days off."

Looking up, Tony watched Gibbs coming down the stairs to his basement. "Suspension," he clarified and made a face before he shrugged. "Guess I can be lucky I'm not out of a job."

"Damn right," Gibbs agreed, coming over to see what he'd been working on.

After waking up in an empty house, he hadn't needed a note to know where Gibbs had gone. Or rather whom he went to see. Frankly said, he still wasn't sure if he was feeling thankful or pissed off about that. Too curious not to wait and see what news Gibbs brought back from Vance he'd stayed, but found himself also too restless to do nothing and too nervous to relax in front of the TV. Besides, with Gibbs' limited choice of channels there wasn't anything worth watching anyway. So he'd ended up in the basement, where there was nothing else to do than carpentry. Now, he was far from expert, but he'd spent enough time with Gibbs to have learned some basic skills apart from sanding. So he'd continued carving out a cat from a block of wood, that Gibbs had begun. He supposed it was for Amira, the little girl sure loved cats.

Tony got up to move away as Gibbs took the wood and inspected it. "You didn't have to do that, you know? I can clean up my own mess." He preferred it too, used to fighting his own battles and not really appreciating when others wanted to interfere with that. Even if it was Gibbs, even after all these years.

Gibbs just shot him a look that said everything he thought about that.

Plopping down onto the stairs, he sighed, gingerly touching the brightly yellow shiner his jaw was sporting. It didn't hurt really, at least not as long as he didn't need to chew on something. By the time he could go back to work, he hoped the bruise had faded enough so there wouldn't be uncomfortable questions. The fewer people knew about what had happened the better.

"You could press charges."

His eyes snapped up to stare incredulously at Gibbs, not even bothering to comment on that. As if! Not only had it been his own fault that he got decked, he'd deserved it too. Actually, he would have deserved even more after the way he'd provoked Vance and was lucky to not have had the shit beaten out of him and to get off with only three days of suspension. Wait ... He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't say anything to Vance about this, did you?" he asked, pointing at his jaw. "Or do something stupid, like threatening him or something like that?"

Once again, Gibbs didn't grace him with a response. The difference was, this time, he didn't look back at him, just continued where Tony had stopped his work on the cat. "Dammit, Gibbs, really?" Letting his head fall forward, he messed up his hair.

Clearly, it had been a mistake coming here, getting Gibbs involved. He should have just gone home and waited it out, either way. It was what he'd also wanted to do, really. Problem was, if he'd done that, even if Vance had not fired him, Gibbs just might have. First, for not letting him know that he had gotten in trouble with the director and was in danger of losing his job and second, simply for not coming to him after a rough moment.

It still baffled him that anyone cared enough to actually _want_ to be his go-to person, be there for him and always be ready to listen if he needed to have a talk. It sure was a new concept for him and as it came that late in his life, he had taken a long time adjusting to it and to be honest, still struggled somewhat with it. Of course he appreciated it. But sometimes it was also kind of a pain in the ass. Like right now. Gibbs discussing his punishment with Vance was one thing. Tony didn't like it much either, but the boss was the team leader and as such had to have a say in it. But Gibbs confronting Vance for punching him, no, that had nothing to do with the job and all with him looking out for him. Which was kind of sweet, and the sky could turn purple and McGee be declared the sexiest man on Earth and he'd still never ever dare to say that aloud to anyone, let alone Gibbs. Let's forget that he'd die of embarrassment. The boss would kill him for sure. He didn't do sweet. End of discussion. Well, with anyone but Abby. But to go threatening Vance for decking him still was not his job, not when Tony was perfectly capable of dealing with that by himself, if he wanted to. Which he didn't. As said, he'd deserved it, no question there.

Bringing out his knife, Gibbs started on the fine carving of the details, glancing briefly at him before concentrating on the figure. "Suppose McGee made an out of line comment about Shannon and Kelly and I knocked out his lights for that - what would you do?"

"Hey, Vance didn't knock me out!" he protested, offended. "He made me stumble a bit perhaps, but it was light years away from anything close to punching me into oblivion."

Gibbs just shot him a glare that told him to cut the crap. He had the urge to squirm. Then again, he'd been exposed to that glare for a decade now. He wasn't quite immune yet, but he sure had developed a healthy resistance to it by now. So he stretched out his legs instead, leaning with his elbows on the stairs behind him. Relaxed. "First of all, I'd have whipped his scrawny ass for being so incredibly stupid and insensitive."

He looked at him, expectant. "And?"

Tony held the gaze. But as said, resistance was no immunity. He sighed. "And then I would have whipped _your_ ass for being as out of line as he was."

The boss did his almost smile, going back to work on the wood in his hands.

He may have gotten the message, but he still disagreed. "It's not the same though. I deserved what I got and ..."

"No."

Frustrated, Tony sat up to glare right back. "But ..."

"_No_."

Looking away, Tony pressed his lips together to stop himself from continuing the argument. Clearly, they weren't getting anywhere here. Across from him, Gibbs put away the cat and the knife, and came over to him. Squatting down in front of him, he had Tony expecting a headslap. But it didn't come. Surprised, he lifted his eyes to meet Gibbs'.

"To you and me, headslaps are a way of communication. Reminders," Gibbs said, quietly.

Tony nodded, frowning. "To stop fooling around and get back to the job. Boss, I know that. What .."

"Ducky never approved. Said it's belittling and degrading, displaying the wrong message." Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Gibbs shook his head minutely. "Never agreed. As long as both parties know what they really mean, they're good."

Again Tony nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly. They sure were on the same page here. If they weren't what they were he wouldn't tolerate them. The one time he'd felt a difference, he'd confronted Gibbs about it too.

"Now though, I think he might be right."

Immediately, Tony shook his head. "No, he isn't."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he?"

Tony got the feeling he was walking into a trap but it didn't stop him from emphasizing his denial once more. And sure enough, the trap snapped shut right around him. "Then why you think you deserve to be punched?"

This time he was smart enough not to answer, not that there was still something he could say to get out of this.

"'cause when you think you deserve to be hit when all you did was help someone figure out something important - and what no one else saw or would have had the nerve to tell him - then something along the way went a lot wrong and if the headslaps are part of that," Gibbs paused, eying him closely, before he dipped his head to the side a little. "Well, get used to not getting them anymore."

Tony didn't blurt out his answer. He wanted to, but that would get him nowhere with Gibbs. Instead, he worked hard to not react to the anger he felt surging up. Luckily, he'd had a lot of practice to keep down that particular anger. It was an old acquaintance of his. Which was why he took a deep breath. "You weren't there, Boss. Maybe I was right to bring it up with Vance, but I went at it the wrong way. I could - and should have - found a better way to address Vance and his avoidance of going home. But I let my past get the better of me. And was really an ass. I _was_ asking for that punch, Gibbs. This isn't about - about possible issues I may or may not have. Just the simple truth that I provoked Vance and with everything he's dealing with, it was enough to blow his fuse. I have no problem with being punched because a, it's no big deal, I sure get a lot worse in the field, hell on the training mat even and mostly by you. And most important, b, I _did_ deserve it."

Gibbs frowned, but he didn't say anything. Which was good, because he wasn't finished yet. "As for the headslaps. Don't stop. Believe me, I know the difference between an undeserved punch and a well meant headslap. I ... I don't want things to change between us. We're good as we are and that ..." Jeez, this was harder than he thought it was. Why was it so difficult to thank someone who knew him better than anyone else in this world for caring and _be_ that person to him? "It means a lot to me, okay? So please, just let this go."

At first, Gibbs just continued to stare at him. But then, he nodded and got up. "Okay."

Baffled, Tony watched him going back to work on the cat as if nothing had happened. "Just - okay?" he asked, not trusting this easy acceptance.

"Yeah."

Huh. Across from him, Gibbs smiled, but still said nothing more. Okaaay. Could it be that maybe, just maybe, Gibbs accepted him for the grown-up he was after all, who knew when he'd been wrong and had no trouble accepting the consequences? Who didn't need anyone else fighting his battles for him?

Something flew at him and out of reflex, he caught it before it hit his head. Turning it over in his hand, he saw it was another block of wood, albeit a smaller one than the one Gibbs was working on. He looked back at Gibbs with a raised eyebrow. "Can't do without kittens," Gibbs explained, without looking up.

Tony frowned at the wood. This would take him a while. Maybe the weekend? He sure hadn't planned to stay this long. But Gibbs didn't lightly ask anyone to help him with whatever he was working on here in the basement. It wasn't just the trust issues; most of all, he knew that this was his place of solitude. To think, to brood but most of all, to remember his lost family without the pain of it driving him crazy. So this was a big deal, one that had his heart clenching.

Not saying anything, he brought out his own knife to get started.

"After the weekend, you should call Jared. Now he's on the team, he'll need even more pointers."

Pausing, Tony looked back up. "Vance think so too?" he asked disbelieving. He'd been sure his coaching time with Jared was over.

Looking back at him, Gibbs pointed the knife at him. "I take care of Vance - you keep looking out for the boy."

Understanding at last, Tony nodded slowly. Okay. Between the two of them, they could make sure that family survived its tremendous loss. Unlike theirs had, the loss destroying them. Hmmm. "Jared mentioned Kayla struggling with her science classes. She could use a tutor."

Having no trouble to get the hint, Gibbs nodded before going back to work, leaving Tony with no doubt that at a suitable time, he would mention to Vance how much Abby loved to tutor while she'd been in college.

Yeah, together, they'd keep watch over the Vances. It was what families were supposed to do.

The End

* * *

_Author's Note: So that was it! I hope you liked the conclusion to this two-parter – I sure enjoyed writing it. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews so far, I'm glad this little story could enjoy you for a while. Really, you blew my mind! I've never expected to get so many and so in-depth reviews for this one! I'm so happy to see that so many of you thought this an actual possible look to a behind scene. Gotta say, to me it was pretty obvious and I regretted it that Tony had so little consideration, not only in this big happening but overall in this season. But that are the even seasons ever since the fourth, he usually comes short in them. All the hope more for the eleventh! Again, thanks to scousemuz1k, for the great work she does for me and you as my beta. You rock! _

_I'm working on a longer story already and the first parts are ready to go live. But you'll probably still have to wait for a while, 'cause for the upcoming next two weeks I'm off on vacation. I'm going to the States actually. Vegas, Colorado, the Grand Canyon, the Rockies, the desert – can't wait to get there, I'm _really_ looking forward to this trip. So to not let you wait two weeks for a second chapter I thought I'd wait with starting to post until I'm back. But I also thought I'd wait to post the second part until later this week, then though, I got all your wonderful reviews and I just had to award such awesomeness with posting it sooner. Am I not nice for once? Hope to see you again soon!_


End file.
